"I know your hands."
That shut me up for half a second.
He seemed surprised by his own words. His eyes moved over my face, then away.
I hated that I noticed the warmth in his cheeks. I hated that he was still beautiful while bleeding through a cursed vow.
"Sit down," I said.
"No."
"Your knees are shaking."
"They're not."
"Your left one is."
"You're staring at my knees now?"
"I'm staring at the part of you most likely to hit the floor. Sit."
The door latch clicked.
Dax raised the pistol.
I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him sideways. He slammed into the wall beside the door instead of standing in the center of the room.
"You said stay behind you," he whispered.
"I changed my mind."
"You do that a lot."
"Get used to disappointment."
The door opened one inch.
A thin blade slid through the gap.
Dax lifted his pistol.
I slapped his arm down.
"No gunshot."
"Why?"
"The vow will hear it."
"Vows don't hear bullets."
"This one does."
The blade pushed farther through the gap.
I grabbed a coil of binding cord and threw it. The cord wrapped around the blade and yanked it sideways. Someone outside cursed.
Dax kicked the door shut.
The impact drove the blade out of the wood.
"You said no gunshot," he muttered.
"I didn't say no stabbing."
"You're impossible."
"You're alive. Keep complaining."
He reached for the latch.
I caught his wrist.
"Wait."
His skin was fever-hot. His pulse hammered against my fingers, then stumbled.
The black knot under his ribs moved.
Not spread.
Moved.
It crawled toward the center of his chest like a living thing looking for a better place to hide.
"Dax."
"What?"
"The vow is changing."
"Can you stop it?"
"I can slow it."
"That wasn't what I asked."
"No. I can't stop it here."
His gaze went to the floorboards. "Then we need the undercity."
"Absolutely not."
"The old oath vaults are below Greyharbor."
"Sealed for a reason."
"The reason is that the Bureau doesn't want anyone opening them."
"That doesn't make it safer."
"It makes it our only option."
"Our?"
"You want to live, don't you?"
"I want you to die. Those things can both be true."
"Not in seventy-two hours."
The words hit me strangely.
"Why seventy-two?"
He looked at my wrist.
"Because that's how long the oath gives us."
"You knew the time limit?"
"I read the binding before I came here."
"And you waited until now?"
"I was trying to find another fixer."
"There are no other fixers."
"There are always other fixers."
"Not after the Bureau erased us."
"You weren't erased."
"My license was burned. My shop was seized. My sister was called a traitor. What part of that sounds like a career break?"
Dax's face went tight.
"Stop talking about her."
"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"Because you don't know what happened."
"Then tell me."
"Not here."
"Convenient."
"Mara, if you want the truth, you need to stay alive long enough to hear it."
The door shook again.
This time the frame split near the hinges.
Dax shoved me toward the back of the workshop.
"Move."
"Don't push me."
"Run."
"Where?"
"The repair pit."
"That's not an exit."
"It is today."
He fired once.
The shot struck the ceiling above the door. The sound slammed through the workshop. Dust dropped over our shoulders. Outside, someone yelled.
The black ring on my wrist snapped tight.
Dax staggered.
"You said the vow hears bullets," I hissed.
"I changed my mind."
"You're stealing my lines now?"
"Move!"
He grabbed my waist and hauled me backward.
His arm locked around me just below my ribs. His body pressed against my back as he dragged us toward the open repair pit. The contact was all heat and hard muscle through our clothes. His breath hit the side of my neck.
I elbowed him.
"Warn me before you grab me."
"Next time I'll send a letter."
"There won't be a next time."
"Keep telling yourself that."
The repair pit was a square hole hidden under a false floor panel. I kicked the latch. The wood sprang open, revealing a narrow ladder descending into darkness.
Dax peered over the edge.
"You first."
"You first."
"I need to cover the door."
"You need to stop pretending you can do everything while your heart is melting."
"You worried about me?"
"I'm worried about my own heart. Remember?"
"Same thing for the next three days."
The door burst inward.
Dax raised the pistol.
I slapped his wrist down again and shoved him into the pit.
He caught the ladder with one hand. "You just pushed an oath officer into a hole."
"Write me up."
"I will."
"You need both hands to climb."
"You could help."
"I could close the panel."
He looked up at me. "You won't."
"Don't sound so sure."
A shadow crossed the broken doorway.
"Mara!" Evelyn shouted. "Step away from Dax Rourke!"
Dax's eyes locked on mine.
"Get down here."
"Give me one good reason."
"Because she has a silver round chambered."
"How do you know?"
"I trained her."
"That is not a good reason."
"Because if she fires, the bullet will split the oath and kill you first."
"You keep making this about me."
"It is about you."
His hand reached up.
I should have left him.
Instead, I grabbed it.
His palm closed around mine, rough and hot. He pulled. I dropped into the pit, landing hard against his chest.
The impact knocked the breath out of both of us.
For one sharp second, my cheek rested against his shoulder. I heard his heart thud beneath the black vow. I felt his fingers spread across my back to keep me from falling farther.
"Get off me," I whispered.
"You landed on me."
"You pulled me."
"You were standing too close to the edge."
"You say that like I was the dangerous one."
His mouth was near my ear. "You are."
The panel above us slammed shut.
Evelyn's boots struck the floor on the other side.
"Dax!" she yelled. "Answer me!"
Dax kept one hand at my back and the other on the ladder. "Go down."
"Take your hand off me."
"If you fall, I feel it."
"You are enjoying this way too much."
"I'm bleeding out in a hole. Give me something."
I pushed away from him and found the bottom rung.
The pit dropped farther than it should have. Cold brick brushed my shoulders as I climbed. Dax followed close behind. Every time my boot slipped, his hand caught my ankle or the back of my coat.
"Stop grabbing me," I whispered.
"Stop slipping."
"Stop bleeding."
"Working on it."
Above us, wood cracked.
Evelyn was tearing up the false panel.
Dax climbed faster and caught my belt.
"What are you doing?"
"Keeping you moving."
"Touch me again and I swear—"
"Don't swear."